he was fit to be a part of their lives. The hell of it was, he didn’t know that he wanted to be a part of their lives. He didn’t know if he could live up to the responsibility, or if he would run true to form, disappoint them and run away. Like he always did.
Hell, if he couldn’t trust himself to stick around, how could he ask her to?
He glanced at her but didn’t make eye contact. “I…I don’t think I can do that, Grace.”
He could tell by her voice and no more that she was alarmed. “Why not? You’ve been doing it for years.”
“I don’t know. I just can’t… This is different. Before it was always people I walked out on—adults who didn’t want me around, anyway. This is a baby—”
“My baby,” she interrupted sharply.
“And mine.” He felt the bitterness swell until it threatened to choke him. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone that. I’ll keep your little secret. But I’m not leaving. Not until I figure some things out.” Like what he wanted, and why, and whether he had a right to want anything at all.
He took a few steps toward the door, then turned back. “Olivia has offered me use of the cabin out at their place, if Guthrie doesn’t throw me out. I’ll be around.”
Before she could respond or react in any way, he turned and walked out.
So much for the creaking in Bill Taylor’s bones.
Grace stood at the window in her dark, still bedroom, wearing a nightgown of flannel and wrapped in a quilt, staring out into a quiet, cold and incredibly clear night. She should have been asleep hours ago, but her mind wouldn’t stop spinning long enough to let sleep creep in. She’d prayed for snow all the way home in the Blazer that served as Reese’s sheriff’s car, for the rare kind of blizzard that Oklahoma never saw that would bury her house to its eaves and leave her safe and protected from the world—from Ethan—until the spring thaw.
But there was no snow. No protection, either.
Expect the worst, her father had always preached, and you won’t be disappointed. Never trust anyone, never take chances, never count on someone doing what he should. She’d always thought it was a sad way to live, so sad that she’d gone a hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction. Her motto, since his leaving, had been simpler. Don’t Worry. Be Happy.
She’d thought years would pass before Ethan’s next return, had thought he’d never recognize her as Melissa, and even if he did, he would never have any interest in playing daddy to her child. After all, he was the irresponsible one, the immature one, the selfish one out for himself and to hell with everyone else. Like everyone else in town, she’d been so convinced of it that she almost felt cheated that the image wasn’t entirely accurate. He had a conscience. He felt some sense of obligation, some duty.
How long would it last? A few weeks? A few months or, heaven forbid, a few years? There was no way of knowing. Long enough, though, for everyone in town to guess the truth. Long enough to saddle her child with the burden of the James name, the James reputation.
Long enough to put Grace herself at risk. She’d proven her susceptibility to daydreams and fantasies. Lord knows, she’d lived enough of her life in them. She’d already proved her susceptibility to handsome con artists. Toss in the idea of creating a family—husband, wife, child, in-laws, nieces, maybe soon a nephew—and in a blink of an eye, she just might forget all about her hard-won independence.
But Ethan James wasn’t a family sort of man. He’d been running away from his own family for half his life. He wasn’t likely to accept any ties that might hold him down. Sure, he felt some sense of obligation, probably some unresolved issue from his abandonment by his own father, but it would never be enough to keep him here. At best, he’d stick around just long enough to screw up everything, and then he would leave Grace and their daughter to deal with it while he went on to greener pastures.
Sighing, she turned away from the window and faced her room instead. Until her father had found out she was pregnant and thrown her out, she’d slept every night of her life but one in this room. She’d huddled in the closet over there, hands over her ears, to block out the sounds of her parents’ fights. She’d curled up in the rocker and dreamed about catching the eye of someone at school. Boy or girl, it hadn’t mattered, just someone who would be friends with her and make her feel less desperately alone. She’d lain awake nights in that cramped little bed, lamenting the healthy, normal relationships missing in her life—the boyfriends, the dates, the little intimacies—and she’d wondered if anyone would ever truly love her.
Now, she thought, patting her stomach reassuringly, she had an answer.
And she had Ethan James to thank for it. Even if she did wish she had never seen him again. Even if some traitorous little part of her hoped to see him again and again.
Suddenly chilled, she returned to the bed, snuggled in under layers of blankets and closed her eyes for a series of deep-breathing exercises. She kidded herself that simply relaxing, resting and breathing were almost as good as sleep, which she certainly wasn’t going to get tonight. She was too wide awake, too worried.
But the next time she opened her eyes it was morning, and the sun was shining brightly in the east. Refusing to think about anything other than her normal routine, she got ready for work, cooked and ate her breakfast, then began dressing in the layers necessary for the walk to the store. It was just another day, she told herself. Like the last ninety or so, nothing special, nothing to be dreaded.
Maybe saying it made it real. Her walk was uneventful, even a bit boring. The usual vehicles were parked outside the Heartbreak Café, where Shay Rafferty gave her usual wave through the plate-glass window. Trudie Hampton called a hello as she unlocked the insurance agency door and commented on the cold temperatures and toes freezing off. The store looked exactly as it had when she left the day before.
Life hadn’t changed. It was ordinary. Routine.
Until 10:32 a.m., when Ethan walked through the front door.
She was busy with customers when the bell rang. She didn’t glance up. She didn’t need to, thanks to their murmured comments.
“Well, look at that. When do you suppose he came back?”
“Better question would be why do you suppose he came back.”
“Y’think Guthrie was expectin’ him?”
“Sure. Guthrie always expects trouble. ’Least, from that one.”
At that, Grace didn’t even try to resist looking at Ethan. He was in the last aisle before the far wall, pretending interest in a display of dead-bolt locks, his head ducked so that all she could see was tousled blond hair and a denim collar. No doubt he knew he had everyone’s attention. She hoped he was smart enough to stay over there until the others were gone, but she wouldn’t hold her breath.
She rang up the sale, took the cash, made the wrong change, then corrected it. She bagged the purchase in a sack large enough to fit it five times over, then dropped it on the counter instead of handing it to the customer. When they left, she straightened the few items on the counter, breathed deeply and straightened them again, then summoned the nerve to approach him. Before she’d taken three steps, he started toward her.
He was dressed much the same as the day before, but somehow he looked even better. Sometime
